


...and at once I knew I was not magnificent.

by Ilikethisship_itsexciting



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: AU, Angst, M/M, Mini, Reichenbach Fall, Short, i used quotes from it i tried, john suicide au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 02:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilikethisship_itsexciting/pseuds/Ilikethisship_itsexciting
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reverse Reichenbach au<br/><i> “So this is how it’s going to play out. You will stand on that ledge and call the amazing Sherlock Holmes and tell him that you believe in Richard Brook. That you cannot live knowing that he lied to you. ” </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	...and at once I knew I was not magnificent.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a mini fic for my lovely Holly (second-star-to-the-right-and.tumblr.com)  
> Happy Birthday poopface  
> Title~ Lyrics from Holocene- Bon Iver

‘Roof of St Barts. Come quickly. SH.’

 

* * *

 

John gingerly walked the stairs to the roof. “Sherlock?” The doctor called to the dark figure that slunk out from behind the stairs opening.

He held himself high, an air of triumph emanating from Moriarty. “Wrong. Phone a friend?” He wiggled his phone in the air as it played his ringtone from the pool. The notes rang out in the silence.

“It’s so boring, isn’t it? It’s just staying...” The words looked like they burnt his mouth, “alive.” John stood there, not saying a word. He had never doubted Sherlock, he knew who Moriarty was but relief washed over him when he sees this man standing in front of him, this mad man grinning ear to ear was James Moriarty, criminal mastermind. The spider. He just didn’t know what was going to happen next.

“Sorry John, if I made you doubt him.” A breathless laugh, “actually no I’m not, that was the whole point.”

“What do you want Moriarty?” The grin dropped. He wiped his hand over his mouth absently.

“It’s a shame you didn’t believe me. This was never the plan. I underestimated your trust. I admire that.” Moriarty strode closer to John. “But now you’re in my way.” He pulled out a gun, a Browning. When he raised it to John’s forehead he didn't move away or flinch, just stared into those empty eyes. “Boring, boring, boring. And ordinary, you’re so ordinary. I don’t get what Sherlock sees in you.”

The spider lowered the gun and sat on the ledge. A part of John wanted to push him over but he’s better than that. “You’re a murderer. You’ve killed people, **_innocent people_**.”

“ _So have **YOU**._ ” John recoiled away from that. “You ruined my plan, my grand plan. The problem. The final problem. What’s the fun of Sherlock dying knowing that you still believed in him?”

“So this is how it’s going to play out. You will stand on that ledge and call the amazing Sherlock Holmes and tell him that you believe in Richard Brook. That you cannot live knowing that he lied to you. ” His eyes widened with excitement at every order. 

“Why would I do that?” John’s face showed no emotion but he imagined the scene.

“Because otherwise I will give the order to shoot Sherlock Holmes in the heart.”

“You’re more elaborate than that, where’s the finesse?” John was looking for any excuse to save his best friend who was always so much more than that.

“He’s on the side of the angels, I want to see what colour his heart blood pours.”

His head bowed John slowly walked to the ledge. Moriarty rose, his smile never faltering. John’s hands clenched at his sides. In a split second John’s fist has made contact with Moriarty’s smug face. Blood fell from his nose and he tried to comprehend the attack. “ ** _Call it off. Call it off right NOW._** ”

“All the king’s horses and all the king’s men couldn’t get me to do anything I didn’t want to do, what makes you think your different?”

“Because I have your gun.” John pushed the gun into Moriarty’s temple. He laughed in reply.

“Kill me and Sherlock will die.”

“Let you live and you will destroy him.”

“This is your final problem John Watson, kill me and kill your little boyfriend or save him by taking a little dive off the roof?”

“I lived a good life.” The realisation of his words flashed through Moriarty’s eyes and he smiled as John put the gun down. 

John thought that this was going just as he had planned. 

 

* * *

 

 

John stepped onto the ledge of the old hospital as Moriarty watched. Keeping his voice from wavering he called Sherlock. “Can you come to St Barts please?”

_“Why?”_

Arse.

“Can you just come.”

_“I’m outside.”_

“I see you. Just stop. Stop there. Turn around.” Sherlock turned below him and even from this height he can see the panic in the detective’s face.

_“John what are you doing?!”_

John turned to Moriarty who looked on expectantly. “I can’t...” You're saving his life John told himself. “I can’t live knowing that you lied to me. I can’t take it.”

Silence hung on the line. Sherlock was still looking up at him.

 _“John...”_ Is the only reply he received.

“You’re a fake. The newspapers were right. You created Moriarty for your own purposes.”

 _“He got to you, what did he do to you?!”_ The panic in his voice strained John’s ears.

“Nobody could be that clever.” Tears filled his eyes with his own words. “Sherlock you are my best friend and I can’t bear to live a life knowing that none of it was real.”

_“It was real. It was all real.”_

“Sherlock Holmes. This is my note. That’s what people do, they leave a note. Tell them that I’m sorry, all of them.”

“ _John. Don’t do this. Don’t let him win.”_

“I’m not.” John turned to recieve another grin from James before uttering slowly down the line, “Goodbye Sherlock.”

 ** _“JOHN. JOHNNNN.”_** He’s running, running towards the corpse of his dead friend.

“Isn’t that Sherlock Holmes?” Someone says as he sprints past. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about anyone but John. John’s all he’s got left. He can’t be dead.

People surround John he has to forcibly push them aside. “Isn’t that Sherlock Holmes’ partner?” a stranger mumbled to the person to the left of them.

“Get out of my way.” He demanded. He dropped to ground, assessing the scene. Head wound. Blood. Would have died on impact. Painless. Desperately, defying all logic he searched for a pulse.

Nothing.

Someone was whispering no over and over. It took him a while to figure out that it’s him.

He tried to scoop John into his arms, hold him like John held him when he was scared. But he was still scared and John was still dead.

Tears fall from Sherlock’s eyes.

 

* * *

 

He kept his composure all through the funeral. Even though he hurt. So bad. Sentiment.

He stalked silently to the freshly buried grave and blinked slowly. It’s like he was expecting him to jump out and declare himself not dead, it was all a rouse. A meticulous plan by Moriarty to show weakness in Sherlock Holmes.

Well, he had succeeded.

“John Hamish Watson.” He read quietly to himself.

“I know what you did John. The only reason you would have jumped off was because of me, because I was threatened, Moriarty was trying to break me so he used you, he used you in his game. His sick, sadistic game to get to me where the people I...” His words were stammered quickly, before trailing off. “The people I care about the most.”

“I’m sorry he used you. I am sorry for so many things I don’t think I ever apologised for. It’s too late, you can’t hear me. And it’s all my fault. That hurts more than the fact that you are dead, John. The fact that you gave your life for me is something I could never understand. Until I saw you on that rooftop.”

“I was never a machine around you, as much as I wanted to be, you made me feel fear and desperation but also happiness and loyalty. I could never be the man you were John, you fought a one man war against everyone who doubted me.” His voice was sharp emotionless and fast.

“You are the most heroic man I have ever met so please, John Watson, don’t.... be.... dead. Be a hero for me.” Sherlock managed to choke out the words because they sounded so ridiculous in his own mind. Tears clouded his eyes.  Holmes took his long overcoat off slowly and laid it on the ground which covers his best friend, his life. He smiled to the silent grave and gave a small salute.

* * *

 

The shattered man strode off towards the church, a frosty glare clouds his face. He pulled out his phone and typed a short message.

‘James Moriarty, I am coming for you. Sherlock Holmes.’

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry for any mental scars  
> Catch me at odinloki.tumblr.com


End file.
